Lukas the Trickster

by Josh Reynolds

  ‘Maybe we’ll see some blood now,’ Ake growled.

  ‘Careful it’s not your own.’ Lukas leapt lightly from his perch. Rock crunched beneath him as he slid down the incline towards the edge of the ice. Ake and the others followed him, howling as they went. They weren’t so graceful in their descent. Dag skidded the last few metres on his back and came to rest in a cloud of ice particles and loose stones. The others yelped laughter as they hauled him to his feet.

  Ident-runes spun across Lukas’ visual feed. The shore was thick with grey shapes. Dozens of packs, aspirants and greypelts alike, paced impatiently. Even with his armour’s filtering systems, he could tell that the air stank of kill-urge. Chainblades shrieked and bolt pistols barked erratically as their wielders gave in to their growing excitement.

  Grimblood stalked through the crowd, a towering presence. His heavy battle-plate was marked with totems and runes where it wasn’t daubed with char. The sigil of the Fire Wolf was displayed prominently on one shoulder-plate. Thick pelts streaked with ash and blood-markings hung from his shoulders, and he wore no helm.

  Lukas noted the way the jarl spoke to certain warriors by name and singled them out for praise as he passed by. Grimblood was a cunning old wolf, at times. He bestowed his favour where it would do him the most good.

  Hierarchy among the Vlka Fenryka was a more fluid thing than most liked to admit. It ebbed and flowed according to the whims of the pack members. A wise leader brought his warriors together and shaped them to his will.

  Grimblood stalked onto the ice and turned to face the packs. He spread his arms, gesturing for silence. His huscarls slammed their fists into their armour or stamped on the thick ice, the pounding rhythms silencing those who were less than respectful. ‘Oh, good, he’s preparing to make a speech,’ Lukas murmured. ‘Just what this outing needed.’ Behind him, he heard the pups snicker.

  Grimblood threw back his head and made a show of scenting the air. ‘Smell that?’ he roared, his voice thunderous even without the aid of a vox-booster. ‘Drake ichor and troll dung! There are beasts aplenty in these rocks, and they are all cowering, waiting for us to drag them out of their caves. They heard us coming, brothers – they smell death on the wind!’

  At this, the gathered warriors gave voice to a communal howl. Boots thudded down against the ice and fists struck chest-plates. Grimblood laughed wildly. ‘But it’s not drakes or trolls I’ve dragged myself down here for,’ he roared. ‘Not like Redmaw or the others. There is bigger prey in these frozen waters.’ He pointed out across the ice with the heavy blade he clutched in one hand. ‘Last Helwinter, Thunderfist dragged a kraken the size of a longship out of the ice with his own two hands. Its barbs still hang in our trophy halls, and he still boasts of it at every opportunity, the bastard!’

  Shouts and jeers greeted this. Grimblood laid his blade across his shoulder. ‘I would match his boast – aye, and exceed it! So go, ­brothers – go and find me a kraken to kill!’

  Another great howl went up from the warriors on the slopes. Lukas glanced at Ake and the others. ‘You heard him, pups. Let’s go do the work so he can have the credit, eh?’ Without waiting for a reply, he turned and loped onto the ice.

  A pale mist rose from the frozen surface of the sea, opaque and smelling of sour water. It muffled sound as much as it obstructed vision. The only noise was the crunch of their boots on the thin layer of frost that blanketed the thickest patches of ice. The extremes of temperature played havoc with the sensors. Ident-runes faded and blinked in and out of visibility as the packs spread out across the ice.

  Between the mist and the interference, Lukas soon lost sight of the other packs. Just as well. No need to share their kill if they could help it. He was careful to keep Ake and the others in sight. It would be depressingly easy to lose one down here. The ice was dangerous enough, but the caves that rose like citadel walls on the distant shores were a constant temptation to glory-hungry young warriors.

  ‘Stay alert,’ he said. ‘Trolls prowl here, and worse things besides.’

  ‘I’d like to kill a troll,’ Ake said.

  ‘Trolls are taller than a dreadnought, and angrier too,’ Lukas said. ‘They use pine trees for clubs and their teeth can crack ceramite.’

  ‘All the more reason to kill one, then,’ Ake barked. He glanced towards the caves. ‘Ake Trollslayer. A good name, that.’

  ‘Better than Ake Trolldung, I suppose. Which is what you will be if you try it.’ Lukas nudged the Blood Claw. ‘Besides, we’re hunting kraken, remember?’ A flash at his feet caught his eye and he gave a bark of laughter. ‘Or maybe they are hunting us. Bare your fangs, pups – we’ve got kraken-sign.’ He pointed to the ice.

  Cobalt striations of what looked like lightning ran beneath it, barely visible in the gloom. Lukas knelt, one palm pressed flat to the surface. He could feel the chill of it, even through his gauntlet.

  The cold of the Underfang would snatch the life from an unaugmented and unprotected mortal in a few moments. For a Space Marine, it was uncomfortable but bearable. For the kraken, it was perfect. The creatures thrived in the cold, shrugging off temperatures that would freeze a starship solid. They came to the surface for reasons known only to them, most often in the Helwinter. Lukas suspected the kraken were simply seeking refuge from something even larger and hungrier that had been stirred from the depths by the constant tectonic upheaval of the season.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Dag asked, his head cocked. He was the most curious of the pack. More willing to learn. Lukas looked up.

  ‘Listening. Here, put your hand on the ice. All of you, gather round. This is a lesson that will serve you well, and on more worlds than this.’

  Dag did as he was told. His eyes widened. ‘The ice is vibrating.’

  Lukas grinned. ‘That’s because something is moving beneath it. Rising towards the surface.’ He looked around. ‘It will be hungry after such a long trip. Kraken normally feed on the trolls and drakes that lair in the sea caves, but sometimes you’ll get a clever one that will climb the magma conduits up into the utility halls. Best to kill them before they get that far. I’d wager that’s why Grimblood really brought us down here. He’s a cunning old wolf.’

  ‘This is about pest control, then?’ Ake snarled. ‘Where is the glory in that?’

  ‘Did you have something better to do?’ Lukas asked. Anticipation built in him. He heard no ringing howls of triumph, no rattle of bolter fire from the other nearby packs.

  Kadir leaned over him. ‘We’re the first, aren’t we?’ he asked eagerly. Lukas nodded, and Kadir bared his teeth. ‘We’re the first to make a kill?’ He appeared to be almost salivating at the thought.

  ‘We haven’t killed it yet,’ Lukas said. As he rose to his feet, a sharp smell stung his nose. For a moment, he thought the kraken was closer than he had assumed, but it was just Halvar. The Blood Claw smelled so foul that Lukas thought it a wonder that any of the others could stand to fight alongside him. ‘Go over there,’ he said, waving a hand.

  Halvar did so, peering about warily. ‘I dreamt I was circled six times by a carrion bird,’ he said loudly. ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘That you should bathe more than once every hundred cycles, and in something other than bear milk and rancid fat,’ Ake said. ‘Step back. My eyes are watering.’

  ‘I’ve been bathing in bear milk since I was a pup,’ Halvar protested. ‘It keeps the evil spirits out of your pores.’ He looked down at himself. ‘My pores are very susceptible to evil.’

  ‘Is that what that smell is?’ Lukas asked, shaking his head. ‘I thought something had died in your armour.’

  ‘Only his dignity,’ Dag said, laughing. ‘Maybe a kraken will drag you underwater and give you a bath.’ He shoved Halvar playfully, and the other Blood Claw turned on him with a snarl.

  ‘I would wish the same on you, Dag, but you would make barely a mouthful
for the poor beast.’

  Dag flushed. He growled at Halvar and faced off with him, until Einar bulled between them. The bulky aspirant shoved his smaller fellows aside with casual ease.

  ‘Heat?’ Einar asked. He had smeared char on the grey ceramite of his helm, turning it black. The red lenses of his visor flashed as he raised his flamer.

  ‘Not yet.’ Lukas clapped Einar on the back. ‘Anyone hunted kraken before?’ He looked around. When no one replied in the affirmative, he snorted. ‘What are they teaching you these days?’

  ‘How to be warriors of the Rout,’ Dag said.

  ‘And how can you be proper warriors if you have never hunted kraken?’ Lukas unhooked a grenade from his belt. ‘We need to force it to the surface. Einar, sweep the ice. Just enough to loosen it. Everyone else, do as I do.’

  ‘Grenades?’ Dag asked. ‘There won’t be anything left of it. How are we supposed to make a trophy of rags and tatters?’

  Lukas bounced the frag grenade on his palm. ‘The concussive force will be muted by the water, but the sound will carry for leagues. Kraken hunt by sound as well as smell. We want to make sure its beady eyes are on us.’

  Distant howls pierced the air. Lukas grunted. ‘Especially since it sounds like others have caught the scent.’ He thumbed the activation rune on the grenade. ‘Einar.’

  Flames washed across the ice, weakening it. Cracks opened in the surface, but it was already beginning to refreeze. ‘Grenades,’ Lukas barked. Frag grenades tumbled into the newly opened gaps, in some cases even as they closed over. The ice trembled beneath their feet, the surface throbbing with the muffled echo of the explosions. ‘Remember – we have to draw it up onto the ice. Keep it from fleeing.’

  ‘I don’t think that will be a problem,’ Kadir said, staring at the ice. Lukas looked down. Beneath the surface, something was moving. Something hungry. He had the impression of a grinding maw of razor-points, and then the ice cracked and shifted as something slammed into it with the force of a geyser. The surface shook, and the servos in Lukas’ armour whined as they compensated for the sudden unsteadiness.

  The ice bulged upwards. A crack zigzagged between his feet, widening as it extended. A sound like the roar of an engine filled the air. Frigid water spewed up, followed by a glistening tentacle. It was black and gleaming, its pale underside lined with barbed suckers. The tentacle lashed out at Kadir fast enough to split the air. It coiled about the young warrior as he tried to dart aside. It contracted, dragging its prey towards the ruptured patch of ice. Kadir howled and dug his fingers into the surface, trying to wrench himself free.

  Lukas severed the tendril in a gush of ichor. He quickly hauled the Blood Claw to his feet. ‘Get back,’ he snarled. ‘All of you – back!’ His warning came too late. More tentacles burst through the surface of the floe and flailed about, seeking prey. It was bigger than he had expected. One of the old ones, then. Kraken lived until something bigger or meaner killed them. Some of them got to be the size of mountains, or so he had heard. This one was definitely larger than the one Thunderfist always boasted of; at least twice the size of a gunship.

  Bolt pistols thundered and war-cries sounded as Ake and the others joined the fun. ‘Watch yourselves,’ Lukas shouted, lopping the tip from another questing tendril. He cursed as Dag was knocked off his feet by an undulating length of kraken flesh and sent sprawling. ‘What did I just say?’

  The tentacle swept down, smashing into the Blood Claw with bone-crushing force and shattering the ice beneath him. He vanished in a surge of water. Lukas ducked beneath a twisting tendril and darted towards the widening crack in the ice. The tentacles there thrashed, as if trying to get a grip on something. He hoped that meant the Blood Claw was still alive.

  Lukas pulled his plasma pistol as he ran, and fired a searing blast at the ice ahead of him. Steam billowed upwards as it disintegrated, and a moment later he struck the water like a bolt shell. Frost immediately patterned the planes of his armour, and he felt the internal temperature controls kick in. Manoeuvring jets, normally meant for void combat, expelled short bursts of pressurised air from concealed ports, keeping him from sinking too swiftly.

  He activated his stab-lights, piercing the gloom. A thicket of writhing tendrils struck out at him. Ichor clouded the water as he clawed at them. Barbs crashed against him, scraping paint from his armour. Through the mass of twisting limbs he saw the kraken itself. The creature’s razored beak was three times the size of a man, and its bulbous eyes blazed like comets within filmy sockets. Its segmented carapace was a yellowish hue, with jagged markings of blue and green that grew darker the closer they came to its massive wedge-shaped head. It darted towards him, jaws wide.

  A chime sounded inside his helm, signalling that his plasma pistol had recharged. He fired. The coruscating beam of heat seared a path through the cold water, and the kraken jerked backwards with a shriek Lukas felt in his bones. As it retreated, he caught sight of Dag, tumbling stunned through the murky water, a thin contrail of blood stretching from his temple. The Blood Claw’s manoeuvring jets seemed to have been damaged, and without the thrashing of the tentacles to keep him aloft he was slowly sinking into the darkness below.

  Lukas holstered his pistol and swam down. Static crowded the edges of his display. The cold crept through his armour, vent by valve. At the outer edge of his stab-light’s beam, he caught a glimpse of vast shapes moving through the dark. More kraken, perhaps, rising to the surface. He could detect the vibrations from above as the other packs dropped grenades into the water or blasted the ice open.

  Just before Dag slipped out of reach, Lukas caught hold of the exhaust port of his armour’s power pack. Hauling the Blood Claw’s dead weight behind him, he kicked towards the surface. Warning runes blinked, alerting him to the kraken’s pursuit. It was rising towards them. Lukas found himself caught by the kraken’s velocity. He and Dag slammed into the ice above and then through it, hurled into the air by the force of the kraken’s ascent. They crashed down moments later.

  Lukas’ visual display spun wildly as the kraken exploded out of the ice just after them, its curved beak snapping, frustrated by the lack of food in its gullet. It probably wasn’t used to this much of a fight from its prey. It shrilled, and his vox-systems crackled as they sought to compensate for the noise.

  Rolling to his feet, he caught hold of Dag and began to drag him back. The Blood Claw’s flesh was blue where it wasn’t coated in crystals of frozen blood, but he was awake. He wheezed and spluttered, still out of sorts. Bone hooks set into the kraken’s underbelly dug into the crackling ice. The hooks contracted and the creature began to haul itself after them.

  Lukas saw Kadir and the others racing to meet them. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he roared. ‘Shoot it!’ Bolt pistols thundered and flames licked across the ice, slowing the creature’s pursuit.

  The kraken screamed in rage. Quicker than thought, it lunged towards the Blood Claws, and a lashing tendril sent Kadir and Ake sprawling. It seemed to have hundreds of tentacles, and all of them were now reaching for Dag and Lukas.

  Lukas dropped the Blood Claw and tore at the questing limbs, cursing every time his talons bounced away from the rubbery flesh rather than biting into it. A blow caught him on the back, knocking him to one knee. He threw himself aside. The tentacle struck the ice where he had been standing, bursting it. He heaved himself to his feet, the servos in his armour complaining. The tentacle speared towards him as he rose, and he interposed his claw at the last moment, bifurcating it. Blinking ichor from his eyes, he saw the beast rear up, the spines lining its body clattering as they flared. The kraken was hurt, but it wasn’t giving up.

  ‘Einar, thin the forest,’ he roared. The Blood Claw set himself, and a plume of fire spewed from the dragon’s mouth of his weapon. It licked out, enveloping several of the tendrils. Their thrashing grew worse, and dollops of burning meat splattered across the ice. The kraken shrieked
and humped towards Einar, beak clacking. He backed away, spraying the maddened beast with flames, as Kadir and Ake hacked at its body with their chainblades.

  Halvar warded Einar when his promethium tank ran dry. The Blood Claw reloaded the flamer with quick, precise movements while his brother kept the seeking tendrils at bay. Lukas watched approvingly. They were fighting as a pack ought.

  Seeing an opening, he sprang towards the cephalopodan monstrosity. Kadir and Ake cleared him a path, battering aside threatening tendrils. The kraken heaved itself up, one bulbous eye fixed on him. It shrilled out what might have been a cry of challenge.

  Lukas ducked aside as a tendril split the air where he had been standing. With a roar, he brought his wolf claw down on the kraken. The talons of the outsized gauntlet crackled with cobalt light as they punched through the rubbery flesh.

  The kraken whipsawed in agony, its coils heaving out in all directions. Lukas wrenched his claw free and twisted back. While he was confident that the battle-plate he wore could withstand the beast’s talons, there was no reason to chance it.

  He lunged beneath the kraken as it reared up, and slashed at its underbelly. Black ichor splattered across his battle-plate, and the acrid stink of it burned his eyes and nose. He grinned through the foulness and kept tearing. Best to keep at it, once the right spot had been found. Especially with kraken. The beasts rarely admitted when they were dead – you had to be convincing if you wanted them to stay down.

  The creature retreated, its hooks chopping into the ice as it sought the safety of the water. It slapped him backwards in its haste to escape. He fell with a bellow, and the beast slithered past him, towards the hole in the ice. He attempted to grab a tentacle, but his claw closed on empty air.

  ‘Cut it off – don’t let it get back to the sea,’ Lukas roared. Howls rose up around him as Kadir and the others raced to intercept the slithering horror. More howls erupted from the mist, and a spatter of weapons fire prevented the kraken from heaving itself into the water. Lukas leapt to his feet as half a dozen grey shapes burst into view, swiftly surrounding the polypus creature. ‘Skítja,’ Lukas snarled as he recognised Grimblood and his huscarls.